


Pounce

by trufflemores



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I have no excuses this is shameless, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/pseuds/trufflemores
Summary: Oliver has a really great way of waking up the love-of-his-life.





	Pounce

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Arrow fandom! I appreciate your support for my previous fic, 'Last Man Standing,' tremendously! In gratitude I have written a very short but fluffy Olicity fic. Based on a truly wonderful video over on Tumblr. Link in main text. Enjoy!

[Inspirational video.](http://trufflemores.tumblr.com/post/162720772021/kenzyshipseverything-nicckpetricca-this)

* * *

"Felicity Megan Smoak!" Bouncing up and down on the bed, Oliver chants, "Fe-li-ci-ty!"

Dragging the duvet tighter around her shoulders, Felicity ignores him. Undeterred, Oliver sits up for leverage and bounces a solid two, three feet in the air. "Felicity Smoak! Your city needs you!"

"Oliver, I swear to _fuck_ ," Felicity grunts, hiding underneath the covers.

"That's my girl! Up and at 'em!" He gives her a minute to respond, but she doesn't budge. Rolling off the bed, Oliver hops to his feet. He backs up to the farthest corner in the room. "You have six seconds to comply."

" _Oliver_."

"Five."

Felicity doesn't emerge. "Four." Shifting under the covers, Felicity hauls them closer, bracing for impact. "Three." He hears her groan in exasperation and grins. "Two."

Last warning, he says, " _One_."

When she waves no white flags, he leaps.

Bracketing her on the bed, he jumps up and down, making her bounce with him and resuming his chant. "Fe-li-ci-ty!" He feels her curl up tighter, used to his tactics -- he's refined them over the years; bigger is better in the wake-up call department -- but he doesn't relent, enjoying himself. He's a little too into it: on a particularly high bounce they miss the bed on the landing.

A laugh punches out of his chest as they hit the floor; she yelps and lands underneath him. Framing her with his knees, he reaches up and carefully drags the covers from her face. She pouts up at him, hair ruffled. "I hate you," she grunts, putting her hands up against his shoulders, keeping him up.

Oliver rests his weight on them. "You do not."

Surrendering, Felicity lowers her arms. He props himself up on his elbows. "You are my least favorite person," she says.

Smiling, he settles part of his weight on her. "I have empirical evidence that that is not true."

"I would love to meet this empirical evidence."

"John Diggle."

"John is sworn to secrecy regarding all romantic confessions. Not that there have been any. Ever," Felicity backtracks, groaning when Oliver leans down and nuzzles her neck. "I hate you, I hate mornings, I hate words."

"You have a lot of anger for someone who cried when we met that sloth last week."

She tears up. "Oliver," she warns, "we do not talk about Penelope lightly. She is a beautiful creature who deserves all the happiness this world h-has to offer. Fuck," she adds, reaching up to press a hand to her eyes. "I love her so much."

Oliver rests a little more of his weight on her. "I love _you_."

"You're heavy," Felicity informs, hand still against her face.

Without further prompting, Oliver wraps his arms around her and rolls them so she's on top. "Better?" he asks, unraveling some of the blankets so he can graze his hands up and down her bare sides.

She drops her hand and nods, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "Better."

He hugs her to his chest. "I'm not sorry."

"I know you're not."

"Thank you for loving me anyway," he tells her hair.

Felicity sighs deeply, a full body gesture that makes Oliver grin because she is still in spite of and because of everything _his_.

Without lifting her head from his shoulder, Felicity mumbles against his shirt, "Can we go see Penelope again?"

Oliver laughs. "Yeah, that could -- be arranged."

( _Which is how two days later they're back and Felicity sobs when the zookeeper brings the sloth out and almost passes out when she lets her hold Penelope. "This," she says, with tremendous dignity, "is the single greatest thing I have ever held."_

 _Oliver, for his part, is fine being a close second, snapping a pic with a smile_.)


End file.
